The most rotten week in April 2004

Yes.
I know that was long ago.
But....well...
That week came to my mind a few days ago while talking to Foreman....and Jim asked me to write about it.
And he still thinks I had a hooker with me that Sunday he came back...
So here we go.
It's embarassing but it's his birthday and...consider it as a gift.

Day 1
It was around Easter.
A Monday as usual apart from the fact Jim was going to Paris with Julie, wife #3.
Monday as usual means:
I hated myself, hated work, hated every patient and hated clinic duty which I tried to avoid.
Monday as usual means, too:
Hating myself, hating work, hating every patient and hating clinic duty did not save me clinic duty. In fact I had to do some extra hours 'cause Cuddy thought I was mean to an old man.
Twice I walked up to Jim's office wanting to complain and twice I had to remind myself "Ah! He's off to Paris!"
So I had no outlet for my annoyance and distracted me with my Gameboy.
The evening was Monday as usual, too:
Popping too much Vicodin, swearing and complaining inwardly about clinic, having a few Single malts,drinking beer and watching crap on TiVo forgetting to have dinner.

Day 2
Tuesday.
I came to terms with the new working week.
My attempts on avoiding clinic duty became wittier and I played pranks on some of my colleagues.
I heard "House! You're a pain in the ass!" three times this day and succeeded in insulting a patient without being sued afterwards.
When I passed Jim's empty office I felt somewhat alone.
In the evening I ordered pizza and watched crappy horror movies, popped too much Vicodin and had some beers. The last one was obviously bad and made me vomit all through the bathroom.

Day 3
Oh, the middle of the week.
I am always grumpy because there are at least two more days left to work.
In the forenoon I received a textmessage fom James (I called him Wilson then) who told me he had an awfully good time at Paris and I felt a knife stab into my heart.
I was determined to make everyone else's day rotten and misbehaved at lunchtime in the cafeteria.
In the afternoon a challenging case distracted me from thinking too much and I almost forgot to get on Cuddy's nerves.
In the evening I ordered Chinese take-out , dryswallowed too much Vicodin and watched Vertigo.
Somewhere down the road it occured to me that this was Jim's favorite movie and I threw the remote control at the TV screen.

Day 4
Thursday.
I walked into Jim's office in the morning expecting coffee and some silly talk.
Of course he was still at Paris.
Silly old me!
My stomach began to hurt and I felt somewhat hollow.
Clinic duty was boring as hell and a patient vomited over my favorite shirt.
What a rotten day!
I changed and passed Jim's empty office once again.
Wondering why I felt so strange and empty like his office I popped two Vicodin and started clinic duty again.
In the afternoon more people got aquainted with my cane then the whole week before.
The evening was horrible.
I was at our Thursday-Night-Bar, had too many drinks and continued drinking at home.
There was a strange feeling nagging at me - I felt all alone and got angry.
So I decided to get stoned and spent the night on a chair in my kitchen.

Day 5
TGIF?
No!
I had a terrible hangover and the sight of Jim's empty office started to make me depressive.
So I avoided passing it and threw my cell down to the floor when I received another text stating Having a wonderful time here. At Notre Dame now drinking Café au lait.
Grabbing my cell again and stuffing it into my backpack I think I whispered a desperate "I miss you" just to freeze a few seconds later thinking "What was that?!"
The evening was exactly like Thursday night...just without the bar.

Day 6
Saturday.
No work today.
Too much time to think.
Too much time for too many drinks.
Too much time to drown too many Vicodin with too many drinks.
I remember breaking down on the floor halfway to my bedroom and spending the night there.

Day 7
Sunday!
I awoke on the floor and blinked into the bathroom.
My mouth tasted like a dungpit and I stumbled to my feet.
It took me hours to shower, brush my teeth and dress.
But I didn't feel like a human being afterwards.
Every limb hurt and that hollow feeling was nagging at me more dire than ever before.
I forgot to eat again and eked out a miserable existence on my sofa.
"You miss him!" a voice inside my head told me and made me angry.
I just HAD to make someone else's day truly rotten - but who's?
In the evening I had an idea and an evil grin appeared on my face.
I called the spiritual welfare and asked lots of stupid questions just to drive the woman on the phone insane.
But it was utterly annoying she stayed so calm and answered every single question I had. After a while my dumb questions turned into a conversation and during its course I suddenly started to sob my soul out.
I told myself that this was a part of my master plan and I was just annoying the woman on the phone.
But...I did not expect she tracked my number and was in front of my appartment suddenly ringing the door bell.
I answered the door and stared at her. "What the...?"
"May I come in?" she asked and did not wait for my answer just squeezing past me.
Inwardly I chuckled and was looking forward to keep at annoying her.

Two hours and 4 litres of coffee later I was sobbing again and sitting with deranged hair on my kitchen table. God...this was truly embarassing.
"I perfectly know what's wrong with you", she finally said. "And it's not your leg. In fact, it's nothing wrong but..."
She was interrupted by the door bell ringing the second time that Sunday.
"Who can that be now?", I thought. Approaching the door my second thought was "Wilson's back!!!"
Well...he was.
There he was...standing in front of me and gazing at me and looking as neat as a pin.
"God, House! You look crappy!"
I stepped aside and he took this as an invitation to come in.
The spiritial welfare woman was leaving quickly and patted my shoulder when she passed me.
The door closed and Jim stared at me. "A hooker?!"
I just shrugged. "Want a beer?"